Baby.

Sometimes in the wee hours of morning I swoop little Romy into my arms and bring her into bed with us. Sleeping beside a baby is bliss. She sweats baby balm - so intoxicating and her little breath is a sweet pulse. Her animal grunts have mellowed, but she oinks and squawks with her dream rounds. She holds nothing back. I can feel and see her growing and shedding her babyhood so quickly, now that I know the toddler form of what she'll become.

A little more Provincetown.

Provincetown palette.

The dreary days in Provincetown are sublime too. Walks in the bay across from John's house and to the Beech forest, where the magical chickadees fly and land on hands extended with offerings. Buds sprouting everywhere. Dark, dormant water. Spring on the verge, but not quite yet.

The walk to the lighthouse

Those Cape Cod colors are a remedy. In fact, I think one could start something in therapeutic treatments using colors - from here. A simple walk to the lighthouse at the end of the cape...remedial therapy/healing. I think it had a lot to do with that blue. And those people. And near the lighthouse, whales were breaching.

Provincetown Easter.

Encore une...

I think these two are going to be such forces in each other's lives. We sat outside in our little cloister to soak in the spring sunshine and witnessed hours of Marguerite/Colette immersion - they were in a little bubble of each other.

Oooh oooh oooh.

The noise I make as I swish through the park on my bike these days. Incredible.









Blessed New York. Blessed Spring.

Woke up this morning...

We woke up this morning to three girls. Everyone was happy about that. Colette just stared at Marguerite for a while as if she didn't believe she was real and then burst out laughing and kept that up. Then Marguerite grew a shadow in exactly Colette's form.



We headed out into the gleaming spring. Finally - 100% spring. This is how it went: